


The Collected Fagh and Fogh

by Entropy House (AnonEhouse)



Category: Drake's Venture (1980)
Genre: Cavemen, Crack, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-23
Updated: 2012-06-23
Packaged: 2017-11-08 09:36:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/441789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/Entropy%20House
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Drake's Venture fandom goes a bomb on reincarnation fics. This is *PRE*incarnation, in which Francis Drake is caveman Fogh, leader of the tribe, and Thomas Doughty is caveman Fagh, who annoys Fogh by being smart and pretty. Really, much crack here, folks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alive and Kicking

**Author's Note:**

> You can find out more about the Drake's Venture fandom [ here](http://dv-squee.livejournal.com/38288.html).

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

Fogh woke to the sound of rockfall, and sat up, alarmed, before he realized it wasn't loud enough for that. _Probably that stupid bird that hits its head against trees._ He listened a little longer. No, it wasn't that either. Fogh scratched his head, his beard, his chest, and his nuts and then decided he might as well get up and go see what it was.

He kicked Mugh out of the way, ignoring her grunt and glare, and went to the mouth of the cave. It was Fagh, chipping flint. Stupid Fagh, he could have chipped flint in front of someone else's cave. Fogh kicked Fagh, and picked up a nice piece of flint, just the right size and shape for a skinning knife. The knife pleased him enough so that he only kicked Fagh twice more before returning to his cave for his bearskins. The morning was cold.

He was mildly disappointed when he came back out and found Fagh and the remaining flint gone. He liked kicking Fagh. The man had come to them from another tribe, carrying a sickly female in his arms. Fagh was very stupid; something could have eaten him while his arms were unable to hold a weapon. The female died, of course, and the way Fagh carried on, you'd think he'd lost his favorite knife. Fogh would have kicked him out of the tribe, but as stupid as Fagh was, he was also a very good hunter, and the more hunters Fogh's tribe had, the more important Fogh was. He liked being important, having the closest place to the fire and the first choice of the kill and the best of everything.

There wasn't much meat left, so it was time for another hunt. Fogh called all the hunters together and pointed towards the swamps to the south. Fagh protested, pointing north. Fogh picked up a big stick and beat Fagh until it broke, and then they started south, with several of the others dragging Fagh along.

Snakes bit two of the men who promptly turned purple and died. Fogh kicked them and they didn't move, so he was sure they were dead. Then three of the men stupidly fell into mud that ate them.

Fogh beat Fagh again because this was obviously all his fault. Maybe if he killed Fagh things would be better. He took his nice new knife and held it to Fagh's throat while the others held him down in the mud. Just then Nunogh, who had climbed one of the tall, skinny swamp trees, shouted and waved, pointing ahead.

Fogh slapped Fagh to make him stop screaming. Fagh was always making too much noise. Breaking the silence that followed Fogh heard the panicked grunting of many, many buffalo. He pointed forward and everyone ran towards the noise, even Fagh. The buffalo were trapped in mud, unable to run away as Fogh and his men speared them. They danced and sang happily, before realizing that they couldn't get the dead buffalo out of the mud.

Time to kick Fagh again, Fogh thought. Fagh must have thought so, too, because he ran up a tree and hid. Fogh was even angrier, until Fagh came down out of the tree with a bundle of vines, and showed how they could throw a loop of vine over a buffalo's horns and then they could pull it to dry land. Fogh would have kicked him anyway, but the meat was sinking and they couldn't waste time.

Everyone carried as much meat as he could, with Fogh running beside them, kicking everyone who slowed down. Fagh was very slow, so he got most of them, as usual. Fagh must like being kicked, Fogh decided, that was why he was always annoying him.

They returned back to the caves without anyone else getting killed which was good, or losing any of the meat, which was even better. The hunters sat around and rested as the rest of the tribe built up the fires and cooked the meat.

Everyone waited for Fogh to allow them to eat. Everyone except Fagh. Fogh saw him sneak a piece of meat to a skinny female. Stupid Fagh, did he think he would be allowed to have a female, even a skinny one? Fogh rose up in his wrath and grabbed Fagh's pantherskin, which he wore stupidly, bunched over his shoulder and decorated with porcupine quills. The pantherskin pulled off and Fagh, instead of cringing like a sensible person, faced Fogh. For such a good hunter, Fagh wasn't very big.

Fogh had just about decided to kill him when a thought came to him. He didn't have many, so when he did, it usually surprised him and made him stop what he was doing for a moment. The thought that came to him was this... Mugh had been a trouble-maker until he'd taken her into his cave and used his man-thing on her. He could use his man-thing on Fagh and make him not a trouble-maker, and that way he'd still have a good hunter. Only without so much noise.

He wouldn't have had this great idea if it wasn't for the fact that Fagh had a pretty body. But Fagh did. And Fogh's man-thing got very big and hard while he was looking at Fagh.

Fagh saw Fogh's man-thing and for the first time he looked scared. Fogh laughed and his man-thing got even bigger. Fagh tried to run away, but Fogh waved his arm and the hunters caught Fagh and brought him back. Fogh walked around Fagh, trying to think how to do it. Men didn't have women-holes in front. Well, everyone's got a back-hole. Fogh cuffed Fagh gently, because he was always in a good mood when he was about to use his man-thing. 

It took a little doing, but Fogh explained what he wanted, and since Fagh wasn't cooperating it took several hunters to hold him down and spread his legs apart. Fogh was pleasantly surprised to discover that Fagh felt even better inside than Mugh. Much tighter. He took his time, ignoring Fagh's screams, which were even louder than Mugh's had been the first time he used her. When he was done, he noticed a little blood on his man-thing, the way it had been with Mugh's first time, and he was satisfied. Now Fagh would shut up.

He scratched his nuts and declared the feast had begun in his usual way, by cutting off best pieces for himself and Mugh. After a moment's difficult thought, he cut off another really good piece, and threw it to Fagh, who was being mostly quiet, curled up and looking unhappy. That was fine by Fogh, he could look whatever he felt like, so long as he was quiet.

It was a good feast; for once there was so much meat even the little animals that hung around the camp got some and not just bones. Several hours later Fogh belched and rubbed the grease into his tight stomach skin, and then around his man-thing. That felt good. He got up and stretched, pointing towards his cave. Mugh saw him, snatched up the last of her meat and scuttled into the cave ahead of him. Fagh saw him, grabbed the last of his meat, and started to go in the opposite direction. Fogh growled and stabbed a finger at the cave again. Fagh looked around and saw that no one would help him. He limped towards the cave slowly.

Mugh watched from a corner of the cave, idly gnawing on meat, as Fogh got impatient and grabbed Fagh by his hair. Fagh had nicer hair than Mugh, too. It smelled better. Fogh paused to sniff it, while Fagh trembled in his grip. And it was softer. He loosened his grip to stroke it. It had hardly any knots in it at all, and it was shiny. He pushed Fagh down onto a pile of skins, feeling generous. Fagh rolled over onto his back and showed his teeth.

Fogh slapped him again. Stupid, stupid Fagh, would he never learn? After slapping Fagh enough to make him stay still for a moment, Fogh lifted Fagh's legs and shoved his man-thing up Fagh's back-hole again. It went in a lot faster and easier than before and he was able to move faster. He liked that. He also liked watching Fagh's eyes get big and round. Fagh had pretty eyes, and when he wasn't making so much noise, he had a pretty mouth. Abruptly Fogh wondered what Fagh's mouth tasted like and he bent down, folding Fagh nearly in half, to find out.

Mmm... tasted good. And another surprise, Fagh's man-thing liked what Fogh was doing; he felt it hard and warm against his belly. The second time Fogh was always more relaxed, so he was curious rather than annoyed that Fagh dared to like it too, and so he put his hand around Fagh's man-thing. It felt surprisingly good, and even better than that, the moment he touched it Fagh stopped screaming in that really annoying way, and moaned, and best of all, Fagh's insides tightened around Fogh. Oh, yes, Mugh never did that! She just lay like a lump of meat, which was all right, but Fagh was moaning and wriggling like a speared fish and it felt... really, really good.

Fogh took longer this time, and when it ended, he lay on top of Fagh, petting his hair and licking his mouth. Fagh made a small, pleading noise, and since Fogh was feeling wonderful, he squeezed Fagh's man-thing with his greasy fingers until Fagh pushed up against him and let out the white, feel-good stuff.

Maybe Fagh wasn't so bad, after all. Fogh pulled his man-thing out and turned Fagh on his side, close to him, with an arm wrapped around to keep him there. One of the reasons Fogh was tribe leader was because he slept lightly. He didn't want to have to go looking for Fagh when he wanted more. He nuzzled the back of Fagh's neck and stroked the smooth skin of Fagh's belly. The most he'd done with Mugh had been one hand of times in a night. He thought he could do better with Fagh and maybe, by morning, he would have taught him not to make so much noise.


	2. Takes a Licking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cavemen don't swim?

Fogh never would get used to Fagh being noisy when he shoved his man-thing in him. Once he got going, Fagh made softer noises, which Fogh quite liked, so by the time he was finished he didn't feel like kicking Fagh, but he did wish Fagh wasn't so stupid.

The sun was coming in the cave, but it was still cold. Fogh used his man-thing on Fagh once more, just to warm himself. He wasn't really all that interested in doing it anymore. Fagh had kept trying to get away in the night, but he was very clumsy and woke Fogh up every time and only using him made him stop moving. Maybe he wanted Fogh to use his man-thing on him to shut him up.

After a few kicks, Fagh got up. He was limping and smelled like Fogh. He cringed as Fogh grabbed him by the hair and dragged him outside. Mugh followed them, scratching at herself and looking rather pleased with the situation. She was a lazy bitch and probably glad Fogh had been too busy to use her, too.

Fogh got bored with dragging Fagh and left him near the embers of last night's feast. He went off to his favorite high point to roar at the sun and challenge it. When he came back he found that several of the men were gathered around Fagh watching while Lenogh used his man-thing on Fagh. Fogh was suddenly very angry. He grabbed a club and beat all of them, but mostly Lenogh, who ran off and hid in the bushes. Then he kicked Fagh for a while. Stupid, stupid Fagh. Fagh should have screamed louder, so Fogh would hear. Then he thought maybe he didn't hear because he was roaring. And his foot was getting sore, so he stopped kicking Fagh, and went off to do his usual morning bullying of the tribe.

When he returned he was in a good mood. Until he looked around and didn't see Fagh. He growled at Mugh, who hastily pointed in the direction of the water that ran below the caves. There was plenty of water in the drinking gourds. Fagh was being stupid again. Fogh growled and went after him. This time he was going to kick Fagh all the way back to the cave. And push a big rock in front of it.

Stupid, stupid Fagh was in the water. People don't go in the water. Fish go in the water, and some kinds of birds. Fogh stood as close to the water as he could get and growled, showing Fagh that he should get out of the water and come to Fogh to be kicked.

Fagh showed his teeth and walked into even deeper water, until only his shiny hair showed. Fogh was furious. He was taller than Fagh, he could walk in there, too, and get Fagh! And then he'd kick him so hard... Fogh ran into the water, reaching to grab Fagh's hair.

But Fagh did something stupid and went even further into the water, moving like a fish. A fat, stupid, clumsy fish. He grinned at Fogh. That was too much. Fogh was leader, no one made fun of him! He lunged at Fagh, and the sand slipped from under his feet and the stupid, stupid water refused to hold him up the way it held up Fagh. He fought the water, beating and kicking at it, but the water was stupid and strong and it got in his mouth and his nose and he was under the water, and suddenly he was losing the fight. He was so angry. How could he lose a fight to water? Water couldn't lead the tribe! He couldn't... he... 

Fogh woke up coughing and spitting water out of his nose and mouth. He was confused. Did he beat the water? A hand patted him on the back and he looked around into Fagh's really very pretty eyes. Fagh's eyes were wet, but not water wet. The way they were when his sickly female had died. Who died?

Fogh looked around and didn't see anyone else. Then he looked back at Fagh. Fagh must have pulled him out of the water. Stupid Fagh. He should kick him for being so stupid. Then Fagh lowered his eyes and looked up at him through his eyelashes. He really was very pretty. Maybe Fogh would kick him later.


	3. Meat Eater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fogh wants meat.

Fogh grunted and kicked Fagh, for luck. It was hot and had been hot for so long all the grass was yellow and made loud noises when you walked on it, so even the stupidest animals ran away before you got close enough to spear them. Fogh was so hungry he'd even eaten some of the roots the women dug up and cooked in the fire.

Roots didn't make his stomach feel good. He wanted meat. They always had meat before Fagh joined the tribe, so it was all Fagh's fault that they didn't have any. Fagh scuttled forward enough so Fogh's next kick missed, and he almost fell on his backside. That made him really angry, so he ran fast enough to catch Fagh by his hair. Fagh squealed like a woman, which got Fogh excited. He pushed aside his furs to let his man-thing out.

The other hunters noticed, and squatted on the ground to pick lice and scratch themselves. Fagh began frantically licking Fogh's man-thing in apology, looking up at him from under his long eyelashes to see if it was working. Fogh didn't like Fagh thinking he could make Fogh do anything, even make him not be mad just because it felt good to have Fagh's warm tongue licking his man-thing. So he let him do it for a while, until Fagh began to look smug, then he jerked Fagh around on all fours and pushed his wet man-thing up Fagh's back hole. Fagh yelped and squirmed.

Fogh liked that. It felt good.

The other hunters watched, while scratching themselves and playing with their man-things.

Fogh didn't like it if they touched Fagh, but he didn't mind if they watched. But Fogh was hungry, so he finished doing the feel-good thing quickly. Since Fagh had made him mad he didn't touch Fagh's man-thing or let him touch himself. When he finished and kicked Fagh again, they continued the hunt. Fagh made unhappy noises, but a few more kicks shut up him and he limped along silently, falling further and further behind.

Fogh was poking his spear into a bush, hoping to scare out something worth eating when he heard Fagh scream. Now, he'd heard Fagh make lots of noises, but this sounded different from his screaming because he was happy, or screaming because he was unhappy, or screaming because he was afraid Fogh was going to catch him and make him unhappy. Anyway, Fogh wasn't doing anything to him, so Fagh shouldn't be screaming at all.

He turned around, and saw Fagh up a tree. Not a very big tree. Stupid Fagh. If you climb a tree to get away from something it should be a big one.

And something was definitely after Fagh. It had very big teeth, and big claws. The other hunters looked at it and then looked the other way. Fogh growled at them and beat them with his spear shaft, but they still wouldn't go after the animal. Fagh screamed louder. He was at the top of the not very big tree and the animal was starting to climb it.

Fagh belonged to Fogh! He wasn't letting any stupid animal get him. Fogh picked up a big rock in one hand and tightened his grip on the spear with the other and ran at the animal, roaring his anger. It turned and jumped out of the tree, swatting Fogh's spear aside, breaking it in two. Then it crouched down and the muscles in its shoulders tensed. Fogh threw the rock and hit it in the side, but it wasn't enough. Fogh snarled and crouched, fingers curled. He was going to pull out its eyeballs and rip out its throat and... and...

Fagh screamed again and fell... no, he jumped... out of the tree and landed on the back of the big animal, throwing his stupid fur cloak over its head. Fogh jumped forward and grabbed the pieces of his broken spear, one in each hand, and he stabbed the big animal over and over again until it stopped moving, and then he stabbed it a few more times.

Fagh lay on the ground breathing hard. Fogh looked at him. Fagh showed his teeth. Fogh kicked him in the backside, but not very hard. They had meat now. He was pleased.


	4. Than Rubies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fogh discovers a bargain isn't a bargain.

Fogh saw the strangers from his favorite looking-out-over-the-world-I-own rock. There were a lot of them, coming into HIS world. They were carrying a lot, too, like they planned to stay.

He roared and climbed down, furious. This was all Fagh's fault. Fogh let him into the tribe and now everyone thinks they can be in Fogh's tribe. 

By the time he reached the caves, Fagh was shaking a spear at the approaching strangers. Fogh snatched the spear from Fagh and kicked him. Stupid Fagh, Fogh is the leader, he shakes the first spear. He roared, much much louder than Fagh's really rather squeaky roar, and threw his shoulders back, which made his chest look bigger and scarier. Fagh always shut up when he did it, so he did it a lot, and was really good at it.

The strangers stopped. One of the women put down her bundle and opened it. There were shiny things inside. Pretty sea shells strung on leather. Big red beads made from seed pods. And bright yellow rocks.

Fogh looked at the things and he wanted them. Then he looked at the strangers and at his own people. He knew his tribe could take down a mammoth. But a mammoth only has spears on one end. The strangers have a lot of spears. They wouldn't just let him beat them up and take their things. This was a problem. He scratched his beard and thought about it. He scratched his chest, and thought harder. Even scratching his nuts didn't help. 

Fagh looked at the pretty things, too. Fogh could tell he wanted them. Fagh jumped up and ran back into their cave. Fogh shook his spear again, just to show he wasn't happy. Maybe they would give him the things and go away if he growled enough.

Fagh returned with the rock that was a bear. Fogh remembered when he thought it was just a rock, but after Fagh hit it a lot of times with things and pieces fell off he could see it was really a bear inside. He hadn't trusted rocks since. If one was really a bear, another could be a snake. He tried not to step on rocks.

Fagh put the bear rock down in front of the woman, and pointed at a string of purple and white seashells. The woman picked up the bear rock and gave Fagh the seashells. 

Fogh grunted in surprise. Fagh should have hit her and taken the shells. Then he looked at the men standing next to the woman, and their spears. Fagh got what he wanted and didn't get speared. Fogh thought about it. He couldn't give them a bear rock because that was the only one. He looked closer at the strangers' spears. They weren't as sharp as the ones Fagh made. Everyone likes sharp spears.

He waved his spear at Fagh who had put the purple seashells around his neck and was smiling at the woman. Fogh growled and kicked him. Fagh had better not smile at strangers. Fagh yelped and looked sullen. Fogh shook his spear at him and gestured until Fagh understood that he was to bring more spears. 

Stupid Fagh looked even more sullen when Fogh grabbed the spears from him and laid them down in front of the pretty yellow rocks. He really, really wanted those rocks. He wanted to pile them up and look at them and not let anyone else touch them. Fagh made noises like the strangers' noises, touching the spears and then his own chest, thumping hard. 

Several of the strange men looked at the nice spears. They looked at the strong, straight wood that Fagh had made such a fuss over choosing and smoothing for the shafts. They looked at the neat criss-crossing design of leather binding the wickedly sharp points Fagh had chipped and set into the split end of the wood. They liked the spears. Of course they did.

Fogh reached for the pile of yellow rocks. Suddenly all the spears he'd given them were pointed at him, and the strangers were growling. He growled back at them. HIS ROCKS. The biggest stranger pointed at Fagh and then at the yellow rocks. Fagh blinked and pointed at the thing the big stranger had around his neck on a braided leather thong. It looked like two sticks tied together, but in the middle somehow the sticks made the shape of a man. You can't even trust sticks to be sticks, Fogh thought.

Fagh smiled as the big stranger gave him the stick-man on a thong.

Fogh was so angry all he could see was Fagh's stupid smile. Just because Fagh made the spears didn't mean they were his! Everything was Fogh's! This is Fogh's world, this is his tribe. Everything is his! He roared and grabbed Fagh by the hair, trying to make him give back the stick-man and get yellow rocks instead. Fagh dared to show his teeth at Fogh, and held onto the stick-man tightly.

Fogh was so angry with Fagh that it woke up his man-thing. He didn't care any more that there were strangers all around who might attack him if he wasn't watching them. Fagh was disobeying him! He shoved Fagh to his hands and knees on the ground and used his man-thing on him thoroughly, ignoring Fagh's screams and wriggling around. He was still angry even after the feel-good moment. He stood up and kicked Fagh in the stomach, pushing him onto his back and then put his foot on Fagh's chest before beating his own chest. Let the strangers see. MINE! Everything is mine, and especially Fagh is mine!

Everyone was excited and playing with their man-things. Good, that was better than spearing him. And when everyone felt good, the big stranger pointed at Fagh, and then at Fogh, and then at the yellow rocks. Fogh thought a moment. Yes. Fagh is his. He thought harder. He could give them Fagh and get the yellow rocks. He wants the yellow rocks. Fagh always makes him angry, but looking at the rocks makes him happy. Fogh grunted and took his foot from Fagh's chest to kick him towards the big stranger. Then Fogh picked up the bundle with the yellow rocks. No one pointed spears at him.

Fagh made a noise and Fogh looked at him. Stupid Fagh's eyes were big and wet. Good, he should be unhappy. He tried to keep Fogh from getting the pretty yellow rocks. Fogh held the yellow rocks close to his chest and took them to his cave where he hid them at the back. Then he came out and watched as the strangers went away, taking Fagh with him. Good. It will be quieter without Fagh. No one else is so much trouble. Fogh went back to look at his yellow rocks again.

Fogh took the tribe hunting after hiding his rocks. They got a couple big deer, which was good, but something wasn't right. Fogh's foot felt funny. He was used to kicking Fagh when they hunted and it didn't go well. And sometimes when it was going pretty good. And once in a while just for fun when they caught something good. Stupid foot. He kicked a rock, but that hurt. And the rock didn't yell and look at him with big sad eyes. Stupid rock.

After that, nothing was right. He used his man-thing on Mugh, but she just lay there and wasn't much fun at all. He kicked Lenogh, who just snivelled and was disgusting. He tried to use his man-thing on Nunogh, but Nunogh smelled bad and his man-thing didn't want him. And then he lost his favorite spear on a stupid mammoth that ran off with it stuck in him. This was all Fagh's fault. And he didn't even have a good spear point to put on another spear. Not a really good sharp one like Fagh used to make.

Fogh went back to his cave and looked at his yellow rocks. They didn't make him happy any more. Maybe they were bad rocks. He bundled the rocks back up again, and went looking for the strangers. They had made a place for themselves in the next valley, which was annoying, but since they didn't hunt at least they didn't get in the way. He walked through all the growing things they had around, past all the places where they caught fish and all the places where they did other stupid things. They saw him, but didn't stop him. He found the big stranger. Fagh was there, too. He was chipping spear points. He was still wearing the shell necklace and the stick man.

Fogh put the bundle of yellow stones on the ground and pointed to Fagh. The big stranger growled and pulled Fagh's hair, thumping his own chest. Fagh made a soft noise and looked at Fogh. He was skinny, and had a big dark mark on his face. Fogh didn't hit Fagh in the face. He liked Fagh's face. Kicking him in the bottom was fun. Hitting him in the face was stupid. The big stranger was stupid. 

Fogh growled and would have speared the big stranger, but the stranger's tribe was all around him. And they all had spears with Fagh's sharp points. He kicked dirt over the yellow rocks and went away. He didn't want the rocks. He wanted Fagh. He would have to find something the big stranger wanted.

It turned out they didn't want hides or mammoth tusks- that had been a pain, dragging them all the way, kicking at his tribe to make them go faster, and then they had to drag them back again. They liked meat, but would only give stupid yellow rocks for that. Fruit wasn't it, or even the shiny black stone that chipped so sharp.

Fogh watched them going out into the water to drag in their nets full of fish. Stupid. So much work for stupid fish. They should...He stopped. Should...there was something. He had to think a long time. It made his head hurt. Then he remembered. By the water near his cave a big dead tree fell in and stayed on top of the water. If you got on the tree, you'd be on top of the water. A water tree might be something people who liked fish would want.

His tribe was getting tired of taking things to the strangers, but a lot of roaring and kicking and poking people with his stupid blunt spear got them to gather around and get the dead tree out of the water. It was only part of a tree, with the inside all eaten out by bugs, which was good, it made it less heavy. The whole tribe worked together to get the stupid water tree to the strangers. Fogh had them push it into the water where all the stupid fish were. He jumped into it and jumped up and down to show how good it was. He speared a fish and then jumped out and threw down the spear, fish still flapping, in front of the big stranger. Then he pointed to Fagh.

The big stranger looked at the water tree. Fogh could see he wanted it as much as Fogh had wanted the stupid rocks. The stranger grunted and pushed Fagh towards Fogh. Fagh grinned even as Fogh kicked him. Stupid Fagh. Fogh kicked him all the way home. But not really very hard because he was happy. He would have Fagh make him a nice shiny spear. Later. After he used his man-thing on him in front of the whole tribe. Everyone should know Fagh is his.


End file.
